Sleep
by writinginmemory
Summary: all the emotions, all the time


(this is technically done but it doesn't feel done. Maybe I'll do something more with it.)

Sonya rolled over, tried to make out the numbers on the digital clock...12...no, 2. 2: 36 am ? That meant roughly three hours of tossing and turning...

The loud banging started up again. This had better be a fucking emergency.

She grabbed her old comfy housecoat, the 'granny gown' as Cass called it, and took the stairs two at a time. Someone was at her front door making enough noise to raise the dead. Images arose unbidden and she fought back the brief panic. Didn't need those memories right now. She flipped on the porch light and peered through the safety peephole.

That asshole. There was her ex husband, Johnny, still in the Armani suit he'd been wearing earlier. Both the suit and man looked slightly worse for wear, the fabric now rumpled and the man dishevelled.

"Hoooney, I'm hooome." he sounded sloppy, and seemed to be leaning heavily on her porch railing. Drunk? In all their history, she'd seen him in every possible condition but drunk. Johnny drank only socially and never to the point of getting stupid.

Drunk and at her doorstep...oh, this should be fun.

"Baaabe, you up?" he'd started that banging again.

If one of the neighbors hadn't called the police all ready... Living off base was a choice she made for her daughter and it had it's drawbacks. Like nosy civilian residents and DIY security. She fumbled to unlock the deadbolt. "Shut up!" Sonya hissed. She grabbed his sleeve and dragged him, stumbling, inside. "What the hell is wrong with y-"

"Shh." pressed her back up against the door, lips trailing her jaw. "Best actor in the world, remember?" Not even a hint of alcohol on him, only the faintest impression of his cologne and the warm scent of his skin that he carried everywhere.

She wouldn't let herself be distracted. That he had her arms trapped, pinned between them, was all that stopped her from slapping his face. "You jackass. There'd better be damned good reason for this little stunt."

It was too dark to really see his face, but she felt him lower his forehead to hers, knew he was staring at her. "We didn't get a chance to talk earlier. Kinda seemed like you were avoiding me entirely."

"It was Cassie's night!" she hissed again. "Her medal, her special recognition. I was there to support our daughter."

"You couldn't even look at me, Sonya. You spent the whole dinner with Jax and Vera hovering over you any time I came near."

"You brought a date, for fuck's sake." she tried to jab a finger into his chest to make her point. "What was I supposed to do? Go over and swap notes with her?"

"She's a friend, going through a bad divorce, and she's lonely. I've been in those shoes, I was trying-"

" You can do whatever you want with any one you please, we have nothing to discuss and you have no justification for showing up on my doorstep at 3 in the fucking morning."

"Sonya, there's still things I wanna talk about." He was John Carlton now, speaking in that gentle, serious voice.

She couldn't do this, especially not now. She was tired and she needed to at least try and get some rest; he didn't play fair and he wasn't above using his most effective weapon against her: their mutual physical attraction. Mostly she needed some breathing space, needed to remind herself about their tumultuous shared past, then she could deal with her ex husband. Just as softly, but in her most commanding military tone, she answered back. "I think you should leave. Please."

Instead of arguing or moving to leave, John let out a long breathy sigh. His lips pressed to her ear and she felt more than heard him say, "No." Did he...did he just sniff her hair?

"Listen-"

"No." Now he was kissing her, trying to provoke a response. "We always do things your way. Your training. Your schedule. Your divorce. You've had your way too long." Knowing there was an argument to come, there always was with Sonya, he seized her lips with his own. The tiny whimper as she gave in to that kiss made him growl in approval. When she muttered something indiscernible against his mouth, he stopped. "What?"

"I said, your divorce. That was all you." All she had to do was mention the divorce and he was spoiling for a fight. Maybe he needed reminded.

"Uh huh, yea. Whatever you have to tell yourself..." That...shithead. Even if his face wasn't visible, his voice made it evident he was laughing at her, knew what she was doing.

"How dare you barge into my ho-oh god." she broke off in a gasp. Both his large, calloused hands were under her t shirt, brushing over her hipbones, her waist, skimming her ribcage..."You ass. Not fair." She was dressed for bed and she didn't sleep in a bra so there was no barrier when his touch found her breasts.

" Done playing fair with you. Playing this to win."

"My life isn't a game here. You treat me like I'm a prize in a crackerja-" Opening her mouth had been a mistake because he used the distraction to lick over her lips and duel his tongue inside and against hers. Every night that they'd spent together married, he kissed her the same way, lazily and thoroughly, while trailing fingers across her face and arms. Was he remembering, too? The nights when they'd both been too tired to do more than cling together like this, their daughter's breathy snoring wafting over the baby monitor...

"Ok. Ok." she turned her head to break the contact. "Talk." New strategy: placate him and get him out of here. Quickly.

"Sonya, tonight you looked..." there was a paused as he weighed his words. "Exhausted. Tense. Like you used to when you weren't sleeping. The dreams..are they..?"

Her anger deflated. So that's what brought him here. He was concerned. He knew. She started to answer but that closed off feeling, clamping down on her throat..."Yea." was all she could choke out.

He wasn't groping her any longer, instead gripping her hands in his. "Babe, are you ok?"

It was dark and she couldn't really see him but he still had uncanny sight. In the dark, where she was lonely and frightened, Johnny noticed. Across a crowded banquet hall, where a thread of terror haunted her eyes, he had recognized pain. People admired her, depended on her but Johnny saw her. "Johnny, people died.. because I wasn't..." a sob shook her chest. "Cass ...what if she ..."

"Sonya..."

" When I try to sleep, I can see it all happening again but it's Cass dying. I'm ...terrified." Few people could fathom the trauma and fear that had they had experienced. It was a part of their shared past and, now, it was laying a claim on their future through their daughter. Demons long buried were resurrecting themselves through memories she couldn't fight.

"We'll get through this together. " He enfolded her tightly to him. "I get the worrying and I'm with you there . But you can't live like this, punishing yourself with the past." Several minutes spanned in silence. Tears scorched her face but she squeezed her eyes shut, willing them back. "C'mon, I'm putting you to bed."

Bad idea. "Are you seriously trying -"

"My cards have always been on the table about that. Right now, you are a friend who is hurting and I need to hold you because that used to be the only thing that helped you sleep. The rest can wait."

"No funny stuff?" she whispered.

"None." When he started to walk her to the stairs, she froze. "Please just let me do this, ok? I need it as much as you tonight."

So simple, he made it sound; comfort given and received. Regrets would come tomorrow, and ghosts would re emerge. For a few short hours, he could hold them back. This time when he walked to the stairs, she followed.


End file.
